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All Rise...

Judge Patrick Bromley missed the first ten minutes of this movie—when he saw the word "Intermission" on the title card, he went to the kitchen and fixed a sandwich.

The Charge

Life is what happens in between.

Opening Statement

Finally, an Irish movie actually shot in Ireland, starring Irish actors, made
by an Irish filmmaker—and it's not Neil Jordan.

Facts of the Case

Intermission, like Doug Liman's Go, combines a number of
characters and narratives into one nearly cohesive piece. We get John, the
jilted ex-boyfriend (Cillian Murphy of 28
Days Later) with a fondness for Chef's Sauce and a funny notion of how to
get his girlfriend back. She's Deirdre (Trainspotting's Kelly McDonald), who
has recently moved in with Sam (Michael McElhatton, Blow Dry), who just
left his wife Noeleen (Deirdre O'Kane, With or Without You), who hooks up
with John's best friend Oscar (David Wilmot, Laws of Attraction) on the rebound.
Meanwhile, a tough-as-nails cop with a penchant for Celtic mysticism (Colm
Meaney, Con Air) is followed by a
documentary filmmaker as he pursues Lehiff (Colin Farrell, Phone Booth, Veronica Guerin), the local criminal who
joins up with John to rob Sam and kidnap Deirdre. See how it all folds in on
itself?

The Evidence

If Love Actually had included more
beer, dirt, and blood in its romantic comedy mosaic, it would looked a lot more
like John Crowley's Intermission. The Irish import wants to be the newest
entry into the Bullet Comedy genre—the kind of post-Tarantino movie that
directors like Guy Ritchie somehow built a career on—but can't quite get
there. There's another, better movie underneath that surface, undercutting its
ability to function as just another Tarantino wannabe.

After a virtuoso opening sequence (the kickiest since Trainspotting), the film settles
into a slower and more deliberate pace, which is too bad—I would have
loved for it to have sustained its own frenetic energy. That first scene is a
literal sock in the face, a wake-up call that smashes a tired movie convention
and demands our attention. We want the movie never to look back, but sadly, it
does—though never to the point of dullness. It merely shifts into a
different kind of film: the quirky, dialogue-driven, labyrinthine-plotted
character comedy. Considering the lack of much real time devoted to any one of
the stories, it's amazing that each individual one comes through as well as they
all do; even those that don't necessarily work (more on that in a minute) at
least aren't forgettable.

There's more heart found in Intermission than in most Bullet
Comedies—it is, essentially, a film about people who are lost, searching
for some kind of connection amidst the chaos. That's what's implied by the
title, Intermission—these connections, these moments of clarity,
these smaller but infinitely more important events that occur in between the
larger acts of our lives. It's why we find new love during a harmless
conversation with the Last One We'd Expect, or why we reconnect with an old love
in the middle of a botched kidnapping, or get a serendipitous career boost when
our job is at its lowest point. Whether it's acts of Chance, acts of Choice, or
acts of Fate, the doors seem to open and close when we're not watching them.

Not all of the storylines click—I could have done without most of the
crime stuff and Colm Meaney's would-be-celebrity cop plot. It's actually the
movie's Bullet Comedy tendencies that drag it down; it's almost as if Crowley
didn't have enough faith in the movie's character elements to allow them to
stand on their own. What he doesn't seem to understand—or what he's chosen
to ignore—is that the majority of films in this genre use bullets and
punchlines (or bullets as punchlines) as a means of gaining ironic
distance. Intermission displays its heart too proudly on its sleeve to
have any of that distance—the movie is too sincere to concern itself
solely with Being Cool. Perhaps he wasn't sure such a dark and grungy film could
work as a romantic comedy; after all, there hasn't necessarily been much of a
precedent—most grimy Irish movies are Neil Jordan / Alan Parker / Mike
Leigh dramas, and when they're comedies (The Full Monty, for example),
griminess is part of the point. Here's hoping that he's got the boys-with-guns
stuff out of his system and can ditch it altogether on his next time out.

Of course, I'm torn—without any of the crime story, there may not have
been a place in the movie for Colin Farrell, who is (in this reviewer's opinion)
often overrated and seldom delivers. In fact, in theaters as we speak, Farrell
is drowning the abyss that is Oliver Stone's Alexander. Intermission,
however, is a perfect example of the types of roles Farrell should be
taking. He gives the film a manic charge whenever he's on screen, and keeps
everyone—especially the audience—on their toes; it's Farrell's best
work to date. His performance is rivaled only by Shirley Henderson, whose role
as an extremely damaged girl coping with unsightly facial hair provides both the
film's most touching character and its best story. Henderson is what's at the
heart of Intermission.

First-time director John Crowley shows a great deal of promise as a
filmmaker, though he could stand to develop a more personal style to match his
writing. It's disappointing to see that he's opted to shoot in jittery handheld
as substitute for an actual visual style, constantly zooming in and out (think
NYPD Blue) to add artificial edge and amped-up energy where it's not
really needed—the dialogue and performances are already taking care of
that. It's a common trap that many novice filmmakers fall into (and this isn't
counting the legions of first-timers who come directly from the world of music
videos, who don't know any better and most likely never will)—forcing a
"look" onto the film regardless of whether or not it helps tell the
story. At least the handheld video approach allows Crowley the freedom to get in
close on his actors, giving the film a sense of intimacy that once again
distinguishes it from the contemporary caper comedies that inspired the
director.

MGM releases Intermission with little fanfare—fitting for such
an unassuming film. It's presented in an anamorphic widescreen transfer, with an
aspect ratio of 1.85:1. That the film was shot on video and used a great deal of
available natural light in its photography provides its own set of inherent
problems in the picture quality, but nothing that should distract from viewing;
all things considered, the image is pretty good. The only available audio option
is a Dolby Digital 5.1 track, which, as one would expect, sounds strong. There
are also English subtitles available, which can come in handy when some of the
accents get particularly thick (as a side note, it's rather refreshing to hear
dialogue written predominantly in genuine Irish slang—it's not some
screenwriter's overwritten or Americanized conceit). A couple of forgettable
deleted scenes and trailers are the disc's only extras.

Closing Statement

Intermission isn't entirely original, but it's got a genuine soft spot
and kinetic energy to spare—it's alive. It's not the kind of movie
that ever achieves greatness—there's nothing transcendent about
it—but it does what it does very well. At a time when the majority of
films can't even deliver on their own modest promises, Intermission is a
small movie that works.